


Remember Me

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reunions, Reunited lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: When Noctis wakes up, he could barely remember what was important to him.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted at my Tumblr

When dawn broke it was not the calm peace that everyone had hoped for. It wasn’t a wave of light spreading across Eos in ripples of calm reward for the hope that they had clung to for years. With the Scourge no longer seeping into the soil itself, there was no where for the shadows to hide when the dawn crashed against the unnatural darkness that Ardyn had brought down on the land. The air had been filled with the dying cries of the daemons that lingered in the cold, dark dusk Eos had become, overtaken by the new light and already driven out of most shadows by the light salvaged from the shards of meteor used to generate survival through the decade. 

Even when it faded, echoes of the noise surfaced as the shadows dissipated over time. Weeks and months saw the last remnants of the Scourge driven from the tunnels deep beneath Insomnia while people who had been crowded into the apartments and narrow streets of Lestallum flooded to the open spaces and mostly-salvageable homes Insomnia could promise.

“Hey.”

There were long days where the world faded in and out of existence for Noctis. The magic tearing through him as the Crystal withdrew and went silent for the first time in eons. There were long hours of the searing bite of the Ring’s dying power as he was stitched back together as a final gift for the sacrifice he had unwittingly but ultimately willingly became to save more than just his home. 

He remembered Ignis lingering at his bedside, with a solid presence that Noctis would have known anywhere. He had stayed for days as far as Noctis could tell, calmly reporting on progress and meetings, plans made in the light of day as Cor’s hunters scoured the city for the last hints of daemons and beasts driven mad by the Scourge. He remembered Gladio’s visits— the long hours of some story or another as he drifted in and out of awareness— that came with a far gentler encouragement than what he was used to from the Shield. He remembered Prompto, flitting in and out with news and talk, reports on friends and those they had considered family as the city became a beacon for those who weren’t ready to go back to distant homes. 

But this voice… 

Noctis frowned as he looked the man over, the itching sensation of buried memory a persistent pressure to recall a name, a relationship. But looking over the silver scars that seemed to match his own, and those arctic eyes that he felt should be familiar, Noctis only had the ghost of familiarity to cling too. 

And the knowledge that none of his family would have let a stranger get so close. 

Half formed memories pushed through the haze he had been in for what he assumed was weeks. Names on the tip of his tongue until the man took pity on his with a soft smile and a little bow that sent the beads in his long hair clacking against each other in the quiet of the room. “Nyx. Nyx Ulric, Majesty.”

“We know each other,” Noctis said, mostly to himself as he images were offered up, a decade old now. The smell of sweat and magic among the sting of sand and heat of an afternoon sun in a training yard; laughter as the continuous burn of magic spread between them. There were calm afternoons, wandering familiar halls between rooms while Ignis impatiently urged him on. There were fleeting glimpses of the man, unscarred, smiling, haloed by the strange neon haze of light from the street filtered through thin curtains. 

“We do, your Majesty.” There was a hopeful look to the man as he stepped closer. A rueful smile Noctis seemed to remember better over the edge of mugs and glasses, peeking over a mess of flowers at least once; “Though I was in better shape then.”

“You wore the Ring of the Lucii?”

“For a night.”

“You lived, though.”

“No.”

“But you’re here.”

“Yes. And the Astrals that brought others back didn’t want me around. Said I caused trouble. Lucii said that too.”

He remembered the resounding, booming voices of his chosen ancestors. Drowning out the small encouragements of his father when he wore the Ring and used their power. He remembered the way those voices seemed to demand control, demanded a vessel to withstand their power. And he remembered those smiling eyes and unbearable grin. His ancestors would have hated— 

“Nyx,” Noctis sat up, gasping as wounds still healing deep beneath the surface of him protested the sudden movements. The blankets fell to pool in his lap, but the name came rushing back with a hundred memories barely touched by the decade apart. 

Nyx was next to him in an instant, his hands hovering over bare shoulders as if not sure he was allowed to touch. 

Noctis made the choice for him and pulled the Glaive to him. “Nyx.”

“I’m here, Noct. I’m still here.”

He remembered long, lazy mornings where the man flipped pancakes in the air to show off. Deep, silent nights spent curled in the depths of the city where no one cared about titles or reputation, sharing a drink as they passed a bottle between them. Smiles and laughter of a hundred warm memories made together blended with kisses and touches, and the muttered promises they never intended to break. 

Now Noctis clung to the very real form of Nyx Ulric— battered and scarred as they both were in the wake of their sacrifices for the good of the world that was already moving on. “Nyx.”

“Not letting you go again, little king.”


End file.
